The Singing Mill Girl

There’s the girl who sings for money and the girl who sings for fame;

The girl who warbles opera altho’ she does it lame;

But she who sings contentedly at work the livelong day

Is she who turns the gloomy mill into the bright and gay.

               Then sing above the clatter

                      Of the rattle-trap machines

               Make the dismal spirits scatter

                       Sing us into brighter scenes.

              Foremen don’t pretend to hear her,

                       Life has lost its filter sting

              Let her sing up clear and clearer,

                       Let her sing, let her sing.

O, life within the factory is dreary, often-whiles;

There’s ten to one of scoffs and scowls to kindness and smiles,

Then comes along a merry heart who sings the sunshine in,

And makes a sweet accompaniment out of the dreary din.

               Then sing above the clatter

                      Of the rattle-trap machines

               Make the dismal spirits scatter

                       Sing us into brighter scenes.

              Foremen don’t pretend to hear her,

                       Life has lost its filter sting

              Let her sing up clear and clearer,

                       Let her sing, let her sing.

Feb. 21, ‘97